| Die to be reborn, | |
| I must turn this thing around turn this thing around | |
| Die to be reborn, | |
| I must turn this thing around, | |
| I must turn this thing, | |
| I can't find a way | |
| This is the perfect life, the life that's born from imperfection, | |
| I will embrace disappointment | |
| Die to be, | |
| I must find a way, | |
| I must turn this thing around, | |
| I must turn this thing | |
| To mend the life that's torn | |
| This is the perfect life, the life that's born from imperfection, | |
| I will embrace | |
| Between two headland points lies the bay of | |
| Skaill, escape from the mainland, here could tell some tales | |
| Where the wind whips up the waves white horses see the brave, the orcas come here every year | |
| This is the cradle of man, and seen many tears | |
| Where the wind whips up the waves white horses see the brave | |
| It is clear this is so, will this strange grief ever let me go? | |
| Where the wind whips up the waves white horses see the brave |
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